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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494602">Kintsukuroi</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellonaria/pseuds/bellonaria'>bellonaria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Badass Katara (Avatar), Demon/Human Relationships, F/M, Hate to Love, Inspired by InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale, Slow Build</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:54:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494602</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellonaria/pseuds/bellonaria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fate brings Katara, a headstrong budding warrior from the Southern Water Tribe, together with Zuko, a foul-tempered ronin with a cryptic past and a mysterious scar. When they're forced to fight alongside each other as they journey to the hostile Northern Territories in search of their own redemptions, will they be forced apart by the things that threaten to divide them, or will they find love along the way?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katara/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Fire at the Shrine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a re-work of a story that I began writing and updating sporadically in the spring of this year...which, given COVID-related shit, feels like a million years ago. I have some different ideas about where I want to the story arc to go, and there are some plot holes that need filling in, so this version will serve that purpose. </p><p>Please note that this work will likely be darker than its initial iteration, and may continue material that's not super appropriate for minors. I envision Katara and Zuko to be both be of legal, consenting age in case any sexual content finds its way into this one. </p><p>Trigger warning for: death, mass death, and graphic descriptions of dead/burned bodies in this chapter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>There is a story once told in the Northern Kingdoms of a cursed prince who was banished from his ancestral home by his cruel demon father. This prince wandered the lands beyond, using his unusual strength to perform violent favors for warring lords and stealing what he could from the pillaged villages he left in his wake. He was said to posess a strange ability: that of producing a strange fire at all...flames unlike those that could be summoned by other benders. According to the old legends, this cursed prince sought a rare pearl from the southern waters that held the powers to banish curses and defeat great evil. But the pearl vanished hundreds of years ago and has not been seen since. Someday, they say, the goddess of the sea will send forth a human hero to find the pearl and use it to restore peace and prosperity to the warring states. </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>The road is dark, and the trees lining it full of strange sounds. Moonlight shifts between the branches, and through the pale beams moves a girl with dark hair. Traveling this late at night, alone, Katara keeps well off the main roads. Few with good intentions would be lurking there. </p><p>A sudden burst of movement from the trees above causes her to freeze. Blood rushes in her ears, her heart pounding as she swivels her head towards the source of the noise. <em>Just birds</em>, she thinks, observing the flock of small white doves explode from a nearby maple. Her hand, which has moved automatically towards the small clay vessel she kept at her side, relaxes. In the distance she can see a farmhouse, a single lantern burning beside the dark road, and beyond that a cluster of outbuildings. Although Katara prefers sleeping in the woods to sneaking into stables at night, she knows that it is far too late to be safely traveling along the road alone. Only this morning a concerned farmer hauling a haywagon had warned her that groups of bandits had been roaming the highway, looking to steal what they could and leaving a handful of innocent travelers grievously injured in their wake. </p><p>Creeping into the farthest outbuilding from the house, Katara quietly lays out her sleeping roll behind a stack of hay. The low rafters are full of the warm, thick smell of animal fur and the quiet shifting of cattle. She curls into her sleeping sack and wills her eyes closed. In the soft semi-darkness, Katara can almost imagine she is back in her parent's warm home, firelight flickering on the walls as Gran-gran tends the flames and Sokka snores quietly beside her. </p><p><em>Am I so lonely that I'm pretending these </em>cows <em>are my brother and Gran-gran? </em>Rolling over, Katara presses her face into her sleeping sack. After a long day of traveling, she needs sleep. And in the morning, as always, she will return to the road.</p><hr/><p>Katara boltes awake from a dreamless sleep to the sound of distant screams and smoke on the wind. She has only a moment to hastily pack away her bedroll and leap through the low window of the outbuilding before a pair of men burst in, shouting as one of them saddles a horse. </p><p>"The shrine is already halfway gone--burning to the ground!" </p><p>"They say it's some kind of fire demon, the same one that struck the village by the river last week!" </p><p><em> A fire demon? </em> Katara turns towards the distant billows of thick black smoke. If she runs, she knows she can make it in a matter of moments. There is a stream she passed earlier the day prior, that means a strong source of water. Maybe, if she hurries, she can make it time to extinguish what she is sure are deadly flames...</p><p>Sprinting through the woods, Katara shoves the sleeves of her robe against her nose and mouth as the acrid scent of smoke grows thicker. She feels her gut clench as the smell brings back waves of unbidden physical memories, and she wills her chakra to settle inside her chest. But reaching the village gates, she freezes in place.</p><p>"The village," she breathes out loud, "it's gone." </p><p>The wooden gates have been smashed apart, the handful of humble homes reduced to smoldering heaps of timber. The bodies of several male villagers lay in the wreckage. Katara's stomach turns as she realizes that they are charred beyond recognition. The acrid smell of burnt flesh sends fear shooting ice-cold through her veins, and although she steels herself against the familiar sensation, in an instant she feels herself shrink to the terrified girl she'd once been, watching her seaside village burn for the first time. The ash falls around her in a cruel snow, and Katara chokes back tears, just as she had when she was a child.</p><p>She moves through the charred remains of the village in a daze, refusing to let her burning tears fall. </p><p><em> You cannot mourn for them all</em> , Katara tells herself. And yet, even as she repeats the words silently, she finds that she does not, cannot, believe them.</p><p>It's clear that there are no survivors left in the village--Katara hopes that the women and children have been able to flee the massacre before they were killed. The only chakra she can feel here is that of death and coming decay. Her stomach turns as she walks past the charred remains of a boy no older than fifteen. Beams of sunlight permeate the smoke that hangs in the air and Katara tenses at the sound of carrion crows already gathering on the village outskirts. It won't be long before rot set in. </p><p>Breathing heavily through her mouth in order to stop herself from gagging, Katara makes hastily for the charred field bordering the forest. A part of her aches to remain here, to bury the corpses so cruelly abandoned, to give them a last chance at dignity. But it would be unwise to linger, especially with a purported demon on the loose. </p><p>"I'm sorry," she hears herself choke out, the words thick in her mouth. "I'm so sorry." </p><p>She forces herself not to look back as she flees towards the cool canopy of trees in the distance. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The River</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Katara stumbles across something surprising in the river. But who is the mysterious man she pulls from the water? And what was he doing there in the first place?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, so because I am the world's most indecisive bitch, I decided to re-write the first chapter in present tense and continue as such throughout the story. I know, I know, I have a problem. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Your kudos and reviews continue to warm my chilly November heart.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Katara's heart is still pounding in her chest as she ducks into the forest, stepping lightly between rocks and fallen logs with the effortless grace of a skilled bender. She crouches briefly beside a spread of moss and rests her palms against its soft surface, allowing its moisture to flow through her panicked body. <em> I'm alright, </em>she thinks, <em> I'll be alright if I keep moving</em>. </p><p>Pressing on through the forest, Katara keeps the road just within eyesight through the treeline. It's empty; no surprises there. Somewhere through the dense thickets she begins to hear water, the sweet cool rush of a woodland stream. Katara moves towards it as if drawn in by some unseen string, every cell in her body desperate for that primal elemental connection. </p><p>"Thank the gods," Katara breathes as she picks her way across water-worn boulders. The clear mountain-fed creek rushes down a gentle slope towards some unseen river. Like the forest around it, Katara feels an ancient, powerful energy in the water. </p><p><em> All water comes from the same place, </em>Gran-gran always said, <em>the spring at the beginning of the world. </em></p><p>Katara drops to her knees on the banks of the stream, cupping her hands and plunging them into the water. Like balm on a burn, she feels the power imbued in her stir to life in her chest, soothing every panicked urge she'd felt spring to life at the sight of the massacred village. </p><p>But no, there's something else in the water too, something alien, a power unrelated to this surge of glacial melt. Katara feels her heart skip a beat as she drops her eyes to her cupped hands. Between her fingers, the stream is flowing red. </p><p>Stifling a scream, she jerks her hands from the water. </p><p><em>Blood</em>. Katara isn't squeamish, not by any means, but the sight of the bloodied water flowing between the rocks turns her stomach. Heart racing, Katara scrambles to her feet and steadies herself. <em>There</em>. Upstream a few meters, half-hidden by a water-smoothed boulder, a dark shape lies crumpled in the shallows. </p><p>Drawing closer, Katara can see that it's a young man, his hooded traveling cloak slashed open to reveal a pair of nasty wounds on his ribcage. Blood is seeping through the dark fabric, flowing like dye into the stream. </p><p>She drops to her knees. <em>His face. </em> Beneath his hood, she can see that the left half of his face is badly burned, the skin there red and twisted. It's a hideous scar, but clearly old. </p><p>Bending a stream of water from the creek, Katara bends the cool liquid into an orb that she holds against the wounded man's side. Her hands feel alive, thrumming with energy as she allows the healing chakra to flow from her own body into the glowing orb. Beneath her ministrations, the gashed muscle and skin begins to knit itself together. When she's satisfied at having stopped the worst of the bleeding, Katara tears several long strips from the bottom of the stranger's traveling cloak and lays them across the wounds. She'll have to wait until he awakens--<em> if </em>he awakens--to dress them more securely. </p><p>Katara does her best to haul him from the shallow water. When she's laid him out on the soft earth beneath a tall pine, Katara squats beside him, already exhausted. She watches the stranger, weighing her options. Part of her longs to return to the road, wanting to seek safety and directions in another village. But she thinks of the burned-out ruins she's left behind only that morning, of the charred bodies that were beyond her help. If she could save this man then maybe remaining here for the evening would be worth it. Maybe the gods would look favorably on that good act, would light the way for her northwards. </p><p><em> And you'd be saving a life, </em> she admonishes herself, <em> and that's what a healer ought to do. Sokka would want you to stop and help someone in need. </em></p><p>With a final glance back at the mysterious young man she's pulled from the creek, Katara sets out to gather water for camp. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dusk falls quickly, the shadows growing longer as the sun sinks beyond the western treetops. Katara uses her flint to light a small fire and rolls out her sleeping sack, then boils a pot of water. She carefully impales two fish she'd caught earlier on a pair of twigs and props them up to cook. The stranger, it appears, hasn't moved since she pulled him from the water. </p><p><em>What if he dies? </em>The possibility of the man perishing in the night, leaving her alone in the dark woods with a dead body, begins to solidfy eerily in the back of her mind. Katara tries to push the thoughts away, remembering how Gran-gran had scolded her as a child to 'not borrow trouble'. </p><p>"Feels more and more like trouble borrows me," Katara mutters, rotating one of the fish. </p><p>It's been nearly a year since turned her back on the village for the last time, her fists clenched at her sides as Gran-gran's parting words ran wilder than a fire ferret through her mind. Just a girl setting out alone for the hostile northern kingdom, driven onward by the loss of her family burning hot in her chest. </p><p>The shadows are fading into full-fledged darkness when the stranger laid out beside the fire stirs quietly. Katara looks up at him as he shifts. </p><p>His eyes fly open, and in the firelight they are glowing like molten gold. Katara's sea-blue eyes meet his golden gaze. For reasons that she cannot explain, her heart skips a beat. </p><p>"You're awake," Katara murmurs, sitting up on her knees. "What's your name?" </p><p>He seems to be struggling to focus on her, his burning stare shimmering at her from across the fire. </p><p>"My name," he says, voice hoarse in his throat. "is Zuko." </p><p>And then his eyes roll white in his head, and the man named Zuko crumples again to the earth. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'd love to hear your feedback for this chapter! The next few chapters will likely be more plot-heavy as we get things rolling on the way to the feudal-inspired Fire Nation!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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